


But I Am Cleaning Up So Well

by cruelest_month



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Asgard Road Trip!, BAMF!Phil, Character Death Fix, Clint Has Issues, Dysfunctional Family, Fix-It, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phil has tattoos, Post-Movie, Requited Love, Romance, Team Dynamics, Teambuilding, clint is pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:43:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free of Loki's influence, Clint Barton struggles to accept his own unwilling actions. Bonding with his team helps even if it involves a lot of mini-golf, video games, complaining, and a lousy trip to Asgard. But the best way to get what he actually needs is to accept just how much Phil Coulson means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fangirlSevera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint begins to sort himself out. Slowly.

The follow-up question Clint never could bring himself to ask Natasha was whether or not she had enjoyed being unmade. Now that he was alone in his own mind, he could see just how bad it had been. Before, there had just been the war, but that wasn’t strictly true. The war was a secondary concern. For the most part, there had just been Loki.

Under his influence, all of Clint’s thoughts buzzed around Loki like drone bees in a well-organized hive. Everything he did was to please Loki, and everything he had was something he wanted desperately to give away to the Asgardian. He hadn’t held back at all. He’d contacted enemies and ran missions without so much as a thought for what he was doing. He had not been above divulging secrets if it meant he got more attention than Selvig and his day-glo blue Rubik’s cube of a girlfriend. But regardless of what he’d thought of the doctor’s dating habits, it seemed to him that Selvig had done a better job of setting their overlord up for failure.

Shawrama was a nice break from self-loathing, but once they were back at the helicarrier, Natasha told him about Coulson.

Clint almost believed her, almost believed all of them until Captain America handed him the cards.

Then he just couldn’t think of a good reason not to take a short walk from the hangar bay to the med-lab where he confirmed his suspicions that the blood wasn’t even his handler’s.

It was another short walk to Fury’s office. And maybe he hadn’t wanted to be on a team in any point ever, but he couldn’t help thinking he could get used to it when no one stopped him and everyone followed him.

Clint tossed the cards and the blood test results Bruce had done onto the director’s desk. “Tell me the truth. Or I walk.”

Fury slid the cards back. “The truth, Agent Barton? Is that I don’t really like you, and I don’t really need you. So take that walk any time you damn well please.”

Bruce coughed quietly. “You don’t like me either, but I’m not sure you’ll like what happens when I leave.”

“I owe this realm very little,” Thor mused aloud. “As much as I would like to continue saving its people, I can just as easily visit another now that I have what I was sent for.”

Fury’s eye narrowed but he looked pretty unimpressed. “Are the rest of you walking too?”

“Too rich for walking. I’d probably fly,” Tony said.

Steve crossed his arms. “Any mode of transportation suits me. Hell, I didn’t want to come here anyway.”

“Agreed,” Natasha murmured.

“You did the job you needed to do, and I wouldn’t shed a tear for any of you,” Fury said. He got to his feet. His tone projected fuck-you levels of confidence, but he stared out the window with his arms behind his back. He didn’t turn around or glance back even once. “Here’s the truth. I lied, and I would do it again. I will do it again. If your feelings got hurt and you expect some kind of apology... Get off my damn ship.”

“Where is he?” Clint asked.

“Close by. Agent Hill can fill you in.”

“Thank you,” Clint said. He left the cards where they were.

-

All of them felt some level of obligation to Coulson. None of it was the same, but it was obligation born out of genuine concern, which was more than could be said about Fury. Clint couldn’t say he cared much. The director of SHIELD wasn’t meant to be some likable badass like Coulson. He needed to be scary and ruthless and above all else a manipulative son of a bitch.

Clint was the one who spent most of his time near or next to Coulson’s hospital bed. He spent a lot of that time playing _Fruit Ninja_ on his handler’s tablet or reading from where the agent had left off in one of many e-book Westerns.

He wasn’t interested in Tony’s smirks or Steve’s curious looks or the nurses pointing out that his recovery was going to take time no matter what he did.

While he would have stayed the whole time, Clint found himself leaving on a regular basis for one reason or another. Natasha forced him to go out to dinner with her. She was worried about him, but she was more likely to express her concerns through a right hook to his kidney than by saying so. Bruce insisted that Clint get some fresh air every five hours or so.

Thor sought out his company too, which wasn’t too surprising. The guy clearly wanted to apologize for his wayward brother, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead he asked Clint to show him around Midgard. Being a good host wasn’t too bad since it consisted mainly of visiting microbreweries, listening to Nordic heavy metal, and mainlining _Game of Thrones_.

When he went out, someone else stayed at the hospital although Tony wasn’t allowed to linger there alone. Not after he’d decided the best way to get someone out of a coma was to play Nicki Minaj and Carly Rae Jepsen songs on repeat.

Regardless of how Clint felt and all the things he refused to deal with until Coulson woke up, Clint did whatever teamwork was required of him. He made an effort to be a great team player, and saved most of his sarcasm for Natasha or Tony.

Coulson snapped out of his coma at the start of week five then proceeded to wake Clint up by wrapping an arm and elbow around his neck. The chokehold eased up after half a second. Warm fingers inspected Clint’s jaw. They carded briefly through his hair and then disappeared.

Clint slid back down against the left hand side of the bed and rubbed his neck. “Well. Hello, boss.”

“Agent Barton.” Coulson exhaled sharply then hissed as he sat up. “I’m not dead.”

“No.”

“That’s nice. I’m going to assume that you’re not compromised.”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s nice too,” Coulson mused. “How’d we do?”

“We did great.”

“Did we win?”

“Yeah but… Loki’s alive. Fury let everyone think you died.” Clint figured the cards could be explained once Coulson was released from the hospital.

“Ah.” Coulson’s expression was hard to see in what dim lighting was available to them, but it seemed a bit wistful. “Did it do any good?”

“It motivated both of our weak links. Stark kicked ass in your name and Captain America got his act together.”

Coulson chuckled. “That’s pretty cool.”

Clint wasn’t so sure. He leaned his head back against the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not saying I’m better or braver or anything like that. I know we didn’t stand a chance without those two… But I don’t need that sort of motivation. At all.”

“Teams have to function as a unit,” Coulson gently reminded him. “That means everyone has to stay on the same page.”

“That page sucked. If it turns up again, I’m out.”

“Duly noted.”

-

When he wasn’t needed, Clint kept to himself building new nests in rafters and alcoves in the newly resurrected Stark Tower, which was going to serve as the Avengers’ home away from home and base of operations. Each nest Clint set up was above an area where a team member worked or slept.

Clint wasn’t very interested in his own safety, but that wasn’t anything new. The only real difference now was that he had a team that couldn’t afford for him to be indifferent. So he figured the best way to be vigilant was to be responsible not only for himself but for someone else.

He was rearranging some weapons in one of the larger secret hideouts he’d made when his handler cleared his throat and motioned for him to come down.

Clint did as ordered, primarily for the novelty of it, but also because Coulson was pretty banged up.

“Should you be building a pillow fort above my office, Agent Barton?”

“Sure. When you’re fully recovered, I’ll invite you up. We can camp out.”

Coulson allowed himself a small, short-lived smile.

“Should you be moving around, sir?”

“I’m cleared for office work and babysitting unruly superheroes. Right now that seems to involve playing hide and seek with every single one of you.”

“No field work?” Clint asked, trying not to sound relieved.

“I can be on one end of a comm when the team’s out in the field. That’s good enough for me.” Coulson went over to his desk, grimacing at the stack of paperwork. “Or it will be once this pile goes down.”

Clint wasn’t sure if that was a dismissal or not. He felt like taking the opening since he wasn’t sure he wanted to say some of what he’d been thinking. “Hey, uh. I don’t know if I said it but I’m really glad you’re back.”

Coulson seemed to be waiting for something else to happen. Clint had no idea what it was.

“So,” Clint said after an awkward half a minute of silence. He jabbed his thumb towards the door. “I’ll go then.”

“Barton…”

“Sir.”

“Clint. If you need to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

“Right. How many pain killers are you on?”

“Quite a few, but that’s not why I’m offering.”

“Do I get a choice?”

“Seeing as you spent over a week guarding my bedside and not being told to do otherwise by anyone else? You have had plenty of choices. So yes. You have a choice.”

“Of either weeping in your arms or getting a psych eval?”

Coulson snorted. He went to cross his arms. Then he winced and settled on sitting down in his desk chair instead. “No. If I sent you, I’d have to send everyone else. Frankly, I doubt it would really do anyone much good.”

“I think the shrink would resign first.”

“Highly probable.”

Clint shook his head. “What makes you think I want to talk?”

“Actually, I think it’s the last thing you want to do.”

“So you offer because I won’t take you up on it.”

“I don’t operate that way,” Coulson said. “I want you to take me up on it whenever you want and whatever that entails. I could do without agents weeping in my arms, but I can make an exception.”

Clint would have flat-out refused had events played out differently, but then again Coulson probably would have died if they had. “I’ll… think about it. I don’t know that it matters though. What happened isn’t interfering with my ability to-”

“I would be surprised if it did.”

Clint sighed.

“You’re assuming the worst, but I don’t have some nefarious plot in mind. I’m just concerned. My job is to look after you, and I’d like to think I’ve done a decent job so far.”

“Shut up,” Clint muttered. “You obviously have.”

“All right. Then think about it, make a decision, and tell me. I won’t bring it up again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki-issues are somewhat addressed and other Avengers try to help a bro out.

If Coulson hadn’t been so willing listen, Clint would have had an easier time telling Coulson everything. Being given the go-ahead made him hesitate. It also made a spontaneous midnight confession impossible.

Clint stubbornly wanted to go with No. _No. I will not talk to you. No. You will not get to listen. If I have a choice, I’m going to make poor decisions until you leave me alone._

He didn’t have nightmares. He hadn’t had them at the hospital or after. He’d just had plenty of time to revisit bad decisions in his sleep.

Now that he had the right amount of distance, he could see how helpless he’d been and how stupid. Standing there when he hadn’t been taken over. Not fighting hard enough when the god told him he had a heart. Killing his own agents because his heart was no longer his own. Wanting desperately to be wanted by his beautiful maker. Spilling secrets and finding contacts to earn even a small, twisted smile.

After speaking to Coulson, his dreams honed in on the moments he wanted to erase completely from his mind. And that was trying to kiss his new master whenever Loki seemed in need of comfort because Clint had been cursed with a heart that was full of love for his captor.

The only reason he hadn’t been successful in catering to more of Loki’s whims was that the god had refused Clint every time he’d tried. Loki would just shake his head, stroking Clint’s cheek before pushing him away.

 _Sweet human_ , Loki had said silkily. At the time, every syllable had brought Clint a reverent sort of joy. Each word felt magical, like the best kind of compliment. _You do your species credit, but you must remember your place. You must remember that you are **nothing** compared to a god._

Now Clint could remember a slight sneer to Loki’s tone and lips. The smug look on his pointed face.

In dreams, the words changed. _Look what I can do. Look what I can break. Look what you can become. Look how much I can take away. Look how little I can give._

Clint would wake up angry and aching for something he didn’t want. And wishing for a time machine and a great big axe made specifically for Loki’s neck by R&D.

On night eight, Clint woke up and noted that it was only midnight. He couldn’t figure out how to get back to sleep so he wandered down three levels to Coulson’s actual living quarters. His office was ten floors up from that.

Coulson opened the door, still wearing a suit and probably still working on making a dent in his stack of forms. Clint wished he’d thought about changing. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be wearing a ratty t-shirt and pajama pants while he made a complete tool of himself.

“I’m sorry,” Clint said. “I don’t want to talk, but I do. I gave too much away, and I don’t know if I want to keep what’s left.”

Coulson gestured him inside then gestured to a chair.

Clint sat down, swallowing back words and everything else. Coulson put a hand on his shoulder. He left it there for a minute before leaving him only to come back with coffee.

“Here.”

Clint wrapped his hands around it, liking the way the mug came perilously close to burning both of his palms. “Thanks.”

“Now go ahead.”

“Can you just listen?”

“Of course. But if you want me to say something, I will.”

Clint closed his eyes. “It was perfect. It was cold and perfect and sometimes I hate that I’m not that thing anymore. I mean, what does that even say about me? I’d rather be a pod person?”

Clint’s eyes snapped open but Coulson hadn’t moved. He didn’t speak. He didn’t twitch. He didn’t do anything.

“I spent the whole time trying to make that psycho care about me. It was like I had the greatest friend ever, and I knew it. And he wasn’t going to want me around if I didn’t prove myself.”

Clint looked down, rubbing his forehead.

“When he was disappointed, I wanted to kill myself. When he was happy, I was so fucking happy. The whole time he was digging his claws into me, ripping into everything I had, and fucking it all up forever.” He drank some coffee and sighed without so much as glancing at Coulson. “You can say something.”

Coulson didn’t even hesitate before saying, “That’s not what bothers you.”

Clint blinked. “Well, of fucking course it does, you asshole.”

Coulson eyed him calmly. “What bothers you is that you feel responsible. That you allowed him to do all of that.”

“I did.”

“All right. Tell me exactly how that works. How did you become an active, willing accomplice in your own brainwashing?”

“I didn’t… He didn’t use me as much as he could have.”

“I’m sure he’s owed a medal for being such a gentleman,” Coulson said in a startlingly sarcastic tone. His tone shifted though to something a bit less acid-laced as he continued. “But the truth is he used you as much as he could.”

Clint closed his eyes. “I wanted more. I tried for more whenever I could.”

“There was no you,” Coulson pointed out. “There was Loki and what he wanted. Right?”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do. I understand why it’s easier to blame yourself, but Loki wanted you to want more. He wanted you to try for something you couldn’t have. He messed around with everything you are, and he made you thank him for it.”

“But—”

“Clint, you were killing co-workers left and right. If she hadn’t stopped you, you were going to kill Natasha and you were probably going to enjoy it. You gave Loki intel and he used it. He used you.”

“Then why. Why does it fucking…” The truth was it scared him, but he couldn’t say that. He wouldn’t say that. He was positive Coulson already knew. “ _Hurt_ so much?”

“Selvig, you, everyone else he took over… All of you thought you were confiding in some wondrous being sent to save you from yourself and eventually he’d move on to the rest of the world. He was perfect, you said.”

“Yeah.”

“But he wasn’t. If he was, you wouldn’t hurt and you wouldn’t… Feel the way you do. You were enslaved by a needy boy who was only too happy to make you just as desperate to matter as he is.”

“You think so?”

“I think he’s a mess. That doesn’t stop him from being dangerous or lethal. Loki is, but only because he lacks a real direction or conviction. I told him as much.”

“Before… getting… speared?” Clint couldn’t think of a nicer way of putting it.

“After.”

“Yeah, well. It’s still easy for you to say,” Clint groused. “You’re pretty dangerous yourself.”

“If I was going to die either way, I decided I might as well live dangerously for a minute or so.”

“You were brave. You did more than I could have.”

Coulson sighed. “This isn’t about me. This is about you realizing that Loki hasn’t fucked you up forever. He hasn’t tainted everything you are. You wouldn’t be on this team if he had.”

“I don’t know if I believe any of that.”

“You will.”

There was a pause. Then Clint said, “I also didn’t know you could swear.”

“You can if you have Level 7 clearance.”

“Cool.”

Another pause. Then Coulson said, “Barton. If you ever call me an asshole again when I don’t deserve it, I’ll reassign you to Sitwell for a month.”

“I’ll behave,” Clint promised.

Eventually, Clint fell asleep on Coulson’s—Phil’s couch. It was probably okay to think of him as Phil sometimes. Clint hadn’t meant to stay, but his handler had offered. So he’d passed out with his forehead plastered to Phil’s leg with the whining of mothers on _Toddlers & Tiaras_ and the scratch of pen on paper serving as a lullaby.

-

On Saturday, Clint woke up with a dull ache in his back and Coulson’s suit jacket over his shoulders. He wondered if he could just lie there permanently and never move again. But he felt a bit foolish so eventually he got up, taking the suit coat with him when he left.

After changing, stretching, jogging, and showering, he joined Thor, Tony and Steve at a very large dining table.

“Did you ever sign those cards?”

Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Actually, Agent Hill brought some to me that weren’t… well.”

“Converted into manipulation fodder,” Tony supplied, taking Steve’s newspaper and removing the comic strips for his own perusal.

“Really?” Clint asked.

Steve nodded. “She was supposed to clear out Agent Coulson’s locker and she found a bunch of them.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah. Apparently most of his cards weren’t needed to guilt us into doing the right thing.”

“Good. It took him forever to collect those stupid things. No offense, Steve.”

“None taken.”

Tony gave Clint a weird look.

Clint returned it with a baleful glare. “What?”

“There’s so many annoying things I’d love to say to you.”

“And?”

“You’re mending so he’s waiting,” Steve said cheerfully. “We’ve had a talk.”

“Lecture,” Tony interjected. “It struck me as very den mother behavior, but I’m not the super soldier so I’m taking his advice.”

Clint shook his head. “No offense, Steve, but I can handle Stark’s pitiful cries for negative attention even when I’m on the mend.”

Tony grinned. “All right. Then I’m dying to know about you and old man Coulson.”

“I’m sure it’s in my file,” Clint said, “which you’ve already dug into. Coulson’s my handler. We’ve worked together for about eight years.”

“But now?”

“Now?”

“Now you’re awfully friendly.”

“Tony,” Steve muttered.

“I’m a friendly guy,” Clint pointed.

“You are. You’re also clearly pining in our agent’s general direction.”

“Back off.”

Tony held out his hands. “Hey, I have no issues with you being gay for Coulson.”

Thor had been listening quietly, eyes darting back and forth to whoever was speaking at the time. But at this point, he slammed a fist down hard on the table, denting its marble surface. He focused on Tony, frowning in not an entirely friendly way. “Is it common place for Midgardians to belittle the happiness of others?”

“No, but—”

“Then why can you never remain silent? You prattle on like an old fishwife at times and it bores me,” Thor observed coolly. “I am breaking my fast, Steve is reading a paper of news and Clint is eating the Count’s cereal.”

“I noticed.”

“And whether Clint is gay or not has no bearing on our friendship or the brotherhood we are endeavoring to create here.”

“Uh huh. Thor. I don’t think gay means what you—“

Thor gave Tony a pitying look. “I am the son of Odin. I hail from a realm beyond your narrow, limited comprehension. I can command the elements if I so choose, and you think I do not know what gay means?”

“I know what it means too,” Steve chimed in. “It’s not my thing, but it’s not a big deal. So let’s not turn it into one.”

“Ah,” Tony said.

Thor slapped Clint on the back very, very lightly as if he was some kind of delicate butterfly. Which was all right with Clint. He liked having a spine. “There is nothing wrong with lusting after a shield brother. Or bedding one. If Clint Barton is happy then I am happy for him.”

Clint couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt really, truly, incredibly embarrassed. It wasn’t such a bad feeling though. Not really. 

“I believe that Coul Son would be very fortunate indeed to end up with someone like our friend.”

“I’m not the best judge when it comes to deciding how attractive another fella is,” Steve said with a slight blush that indicated otherwise. “But Agent Coulson could do a hell of a lot worse. I hope it works out.”

Clint shook his head. “This is all very touching, but it’s not like that.”

Not quite like that, anyway.

Phil Coulson was at the top of a very short list of people Clint actually cared about, but it was a short list. Phil Coulson being out of commission for even minor reasons often left Clint unable to cope, but Phil Coulson was his handler. Clint was pretty sure that, given enough time, he would end up telling Phil Coulson just about anything. Just because he had gotten the best night of sleep in over a year while mumbling incoherent things against Phil Coulson’s thigh and just because Phil Coulson was one of the only people Clint felt he could trust without reservation…

 _Fuck._ He was so fucked.

Everyone was giving him a knowing look, and Clint sighed.

“I’m screwed,” he said, curbing his language for Captain America’s benefit. “Totally screwed. He’s a great guy...”

“Try the best,” Tony said, crossing his arms.

“Okay, he’s the best.” Clint sighed heavily. “Great.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “He’s also kind of a shut-in at the moment, and you’re his favorite visitor.”

“So?”

"So once you’re done beating yourself up, do us all a favor. Stop by my part of the tower. I’ll let you borrow about eight cups of ego and you’ll be dating a Super Secret Special Agent in no time.”

“Not helpful, Tony,” Steve pointed out.

Thor frowned before slinging an arm around Clint’s shoulder. “All shall be well.”

“Thanks, Thor.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Phil get closer together. Only to end up too far apart. Then Natasha provides a pep talk (and death threat).

But all wasn’t well immediately. Even after spending the day playing baby duckling to whatever Avenger would have him, Clint didn’t feel particularly well.

His day began sparring with Steve in the morning, watching Disney movies with Thor in the afternoon and having Tony show him some interesting YouTube footage from gas station security cameras in the evening. He wrapped up the day by playing tourist in Bruce’s lab. He’d fiddled around with supplies and asked too many questions until the good doctor ran out of patience.

Then Clint wandered from nest to nest, each one proving to be worse than the next when it came to sleeping. Even the alcove above Thor’s room made him feel anxious. Whenever he tried to pass out, cold air would filter in from a duct, blowing on the back of his neck.

There wasn’t anything left to confess, but he still wandered down to Phil’s room, feeling more and more stupid with every step he took.

The door opened before he could knock.

Coulson was once again in a suit although his collar was loosened and his tie was nowhere to be seen.

“Not sleeping either? I hope I didn’t give you what I’ve got.”

“Insomnia isn’t contagious, Barton.”

“Do you ever sleep? I mean… Have you been sleeping?”

“Not much,” Phil admitted. “Come in.”

Clint considered what he was being presented with, and frowned as he sat down on the couch. “I hear you’re not being very social,” he murmured, a bit unsure about how to proceed. 

“Have I ever struck you as being very social?”

“You seem to do all right.”

Coulson snorted.

“Anyway, I came up here because I wanted to extend to you the offer you extended to me.”

“Oh?”

“I tend to assume nothing fazes you. Which is stupid. So if you want to talk, I can listen.”

Coulson raised one eyebrow. “What topic should I be addressing?”

“Don’t you want to talk about dying?”

“I don’t have much to say.”

Clint tried not to feel as disappointed as he must have looked, but it sort of sucked to open to someone and have him shut down on you. When he started to get to his feet, Coulson lightly shoved him back down.

“Geez, Barton. I don’t have much to say but give me a chance to say it.”

Clint smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“I don’t have much to say because my near-death experience was pretty anti-climatic. I tried to die killing a god, I took a long nap, and then I woke up. As for the way things played out…” Coulson shrugged. “I would have preferred a more satisfying ending. But if I had to go, that wasn’t a bad way.”

“It was a shitty way,” Clint snapped. “No repeat performances.”

“Understood,” Coulson replied. He sat down on the couch too, and studied his hands. “I have some regrets. I guess I can tell you about that.”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I might as well,” Coulson decided after mulling it over. “For starters, I’m not sure I like the notion of only being remembered as a pack of blood-stained trading cards.”

“You would have—”

“Died taking care of threat no one is supposed to know about.”

Clint frowned. “Well, fuck that. I would have remembered more than you being some noble sacrifice in Fury and Loki’s chess game. You did-- do a lot of great things.”

Coulson sighed, debating something. Then he said, “I can read minds sometimes, but yours is a bit hard beyond me. What things?”

Clint laughed. “There’s not much to glean but... I would have remembered any mission you ran that I was on and how much of an improvement it was over anyone else SHIELD saddled me with. The bad ass way you were constantly stopping gas station robberies.”

Coulson chuckled. “Those were more a result of bad timing than heroics.”

“Then there’s the fact that you’re so damn… Competent, calm, good at what you do. And you’re not calm because you have to be. You’re just really that focused on anything you’d assigned to or put in charge of. And all the times you’ve listened to me babble on about nothing is something I’d have looked back on with more than one wistful sigh.”

“You can add patient to my list of virtues,” Coulson suggested. “Although right now you’re babbling about me at my request so I’m inclined to indulge you.”

“True.”

“Then again there’s something to be said for being Phillip J. Coulson - the hero who died so that Captain America would bravely soldier on.”

Clint made a face. “I like Phil Coulson a lot better. That other guy sounds like an inconsiderate douchebag who decided it was cooler to die for the science experiment on his collector mugs than to prevent the Avengers from killing one another.”

“I’m not surprised.” Coulson paused then seemed to brace himself for impact before continuing. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“It must seem like I didn’t think about you at all, and I didn’t. I don’t know who I was thinking about.”

“I was compromised and you were doing what needed to be done. You probably weren’t thinking all that much.”

“Probably not, but if I had died… I guess I’m caught up on that more than anything else. The What Ifs.”

Clint sighed, not very eager to share much of how he might have felt had Coulson died. But he figured it might help. “You being dead would have fucked me up royally. The thing is that it doesn’t matter. You didn’t die and that’s what I care about. Not some hypothetical situation where you’re more than just a hero because you died.

"And I would highly suggest finding ways of staying alive because if you end up a big dead hero? I will round up your prize collectibles and give them to the nearest pawn shop for not even half of their retail value.”

“I think I’ll make sure to leave them to someone else when I update my will.”

“Tony might like them. Or Thor.”

“I’ll keep them in mind,” Coulson said. “So. Outside of hypotheticals… I’m a hero?”

Clint chuckled. “Talk about things I never thought I’d see. Are you seriously fishing for compliments, right now?”

“I like fishing.”

“You know you’re a hero. You don’t need me telling you.”

Coulson shrugged.

“Fine. You’re a hero. If it makes you happy, you can be my hero.”

“Thanks. Now. Do I need to worry about you swooning over video feeds of me thwarting gas station robberies? Because I can’t recall seeing you at any of them.”

Clint grinned. “Tony found footage, and posted it to YouTube.”

Coulson shook his head. “I’ll have to get that taken down tomorrow.”

“Search for ‘unassuming businessman saves doughnuts and cash.’”

-

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Clint relaxed a bit against the chair he was in. He didn’t turn down a beer when he was brought one. He didn’t object to watching lots of _Pawn Stars_ either.

After an hour, he thought about making some excuse for going. He didn’t want to, but that probably meant he should before he did something stupid. Or wanted something that he could potentially have if he leaned forward and grabbed at it.

What Clint needed, he had in some ways. What he had with Coulson was healthy… Sometimes. Coulson was put-together, straight-laced and self-sufficient. Clint was anything but.

“What do you get out of this?”

“Reality television helps me unwind.”

“No. Out of this,” Clint said, gesturing to both of them and then the space between them.

“It’s not a horrible couch.”

“Don’t, Phil.”

“I get plenty out of this. I get someone to talk to and look after. It involves putting up with the most reckless person on the planet who lacks even a very basic self-preservation instinct but I don’t mind.”

“Do you really get that?”

Coulson offered up a pensive frown as he turned off the television. “Are you asking if that’s enough?”

“Probably. You’re the mind reader.”

“Not when there’s something I want to know. Then I can’t figure it out. So I wish… I think I’d be happier if I could answer your initial question in a more succinct way.”

“Meaning?”

Coulson shook his head. “Clint. Let’s not do this now. You’ve been through—”

“If you’re holding out on me because of Loki, I’m going to leave and never visit you again.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what I don’t get out of the time we spend together… What I’d _like_ to get out of the time we spend together is you.”

“I’m right here.”

“You’re always right around the corner or just out of my line of sight. And that’s still too far away.”

Clint swallowed hard. “I don’t think—”

“Then don’t start thinking too long or hard about this,” Coulson said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But you just—”

“I’m just trying to come clean about why I’m in here and why I’m not sleeping.”

“Because I’m a problem.”

“Because I can’t seem to be of any real use to you.”

“To me?”

“It was hard before when I was going to die without saying anything. It’s harder now when I’m not dead and I’m not any closer to making something work between us.”

Clint frowned thoughtfully. “Huh.”

“It doesn’t matter, Clint. I’ve never acted on it, and I won’t.”

“Because?”

“Because I don’t want to end up with nothing.”

“Ouch, Phil,” Clint murmured. He hesitated then set his beer down and closed the gap between them. “You think I’d do that?”

“I’m too close to this, to you… to think about it rationally.”

Clint wasn’t very good at comforting anyone. But he figured he could give it a try by pulling Phil into a hug. According to Natasha and Thor he wasn’t half-bad at hugs.

Phil seemed reluctant to return it, but eventually his hands rested the small of Clint’s back. “You’re driving me crazy, by the way. You keep coming back and coming back, but you never stick around.”

Clint managed a small, apologetic smile. “That doesn’t mean you’d wind up with nothing. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Just. Do you want this?”

“I want you. I’m not sure there’s been a time when I didn’t.”

Phil tilted Clint’s chin up and kissed him.

Clint froze, but he returned it when he felt Phil beginning to pull away.

“You don’t have to… I’ll ask next time,” Phil said when they were done.

“Fuck no. I’m not made of glass,” Clint insisted. He kissed Phil again, taking more time with it and parting his lips when Phil tugged him closer.

They didn’t do much besides kiss, but Clint did manage to drag Phil to an actual bed. 

-

He didn’t dream much, but what came up again and again was a combination of Loki - his praise and the orders he gave. Most of the time he had sort of allowed his humans to plan the plans and fight the fights, but he oversaw everything. He gave instructions and he was to be obeyed. It was a familiar pattern for Clint, and he’d fallen right into it.

In the dream, he filled Loki in on everything that had happened since they moved to the tower. Clint had his arms folded behind him as he told Loki about Natasha and Coulson. As always, Clint was eager to begin and to suggest missions, but pretty quick to do what he’d been told.

 _You’re the best spontaneous decision I’ve ever made_ , Loki had purred. _Now here’s what I want you to do._

Clint panicked, waking up and almost falling out of the bed.

Phil caught him, looking concerned. “Did I… Did something happen?”

Clint looked away, moving to the other side of the bed.

Phil seemed at a loss. A hand came close to brushing Clint’s shoulder, but then the agent seemed to think better of it. “Maybe this is too… I didn’t really plan… Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” But it was harder to sleep after that because he hadn’t told Phil to come any closer so his handler kept his distance. He could tell Phil was tense and worried and Clint knew it was his fault.

Nerves and guilt gnawed at him until morning finally arrived. Clint had forced himself not to sneak out, waiting until Coulson got back from showering before making some kind of excuse right as Phil asked if they could talk.

Clint highly doubted Loki had entered his dreams and messed with them, but Loki was a pretty good reminder that doing anything with Phil was probably a mistake. Not when it was going to probably kill their working relationship or make Phil miserable.

Orders were one of the few things Clint usually took at face value. Phil was the person most likely to give him orders, and he trusted Phil. He’d liked Phil before Loki, but since Loki, part of Clint wanted someone—anyone to steer him in a good direction. Okay, no. That was bullshit. He’d wanted Phil. If he hadn’t wanted Phil, he wouldn’t have tried to find him.

He couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t the best someone to fill the void left in the empty life Coulson almost lost. He wouldn’t be able to give Phil the sort of support he got from him, and it seemed wrong. The idea of taking advantage of Phil seemed like a foreign one, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility.

He wanted to go back and explain that almost as much as he never wanted to have a conversation like that ever.

So Clint did his best to keep out of everyone’s way for the remainder for the day as he wondered what the hell he ought to do.

He hesitated outside of Phil’s door at random intervals throughout the day and then again fifteen minutes after sun went down. Then he locked himself in to the shooting gallery Tony had built for the team but with Hawkeye’s abilities in mind.

Clint still wasn’t sure he liked Stark all of the time, but he liked the presents. He also liked the way it felt to pull too hard on the arrows until every part of his arm ached.

“Did he help you?” Natasha asked sidling up to him.

Clint didn’t even bother asking how she’d got in. “Which he?”

“Agent Coulson.”

He grabbed another arrow and aiming. “Sure.”

“What did he do?” she asked grimly.

Clint shot and shrugged as he took out another target. “Listened. Talked. Nothing much.” _Told me too much. Tried to help me. Got nothing just like he’d said he would._

Natasha’s expression remained pretty somber but her shoulders relaxed roughly a fraction of an inch. “Don’t keep things from me. You know I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

“You didn’t. Fury did. But Coulson… Coulson did what he does best. And now I’m doing what I do best.”

She shook her head, muttering something disparaging in Russian. “Why are you here if Coulson helped you?”

“Because I can’t… I had a handful of moments where I thought I could but I’m going to wreck it. Him. Everything.”

“If you haven’t wrecked it by now, what hope do you have of doing so any time soon?”

“Touché.”

“Agent Coulson has been many things to many people, but he doesn’t seem to do fragile. He’s more likely to break you than the other way around.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you think he’s lying?”

“No.”

“Doubting yourself is par for the course for you but… Why doubt him now when you haven’t before? No one has been more reliable. There is no one you trust as much. You care for him.”

“All the more reason to keep away.”

“I was on a pretty important mission when Coulson ordered me back. Do you know why?”

“The tessarect.”

“You. He brought me in to find you.”

Clint blinked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t… Why would he do that?”

Natasha pulled out a gun.

Clint ducked reflexively, watching as she shot the rest of Clint’s targets to bits. When she was done, Clint turned to look at her.

“Why are you here, Clint?”

“I have nowhere else to be at the moment.”

“You do,” she said. “You really do.”

“So he sent you to find me. So what, Tasha? I don’t want to be just one more problem.”

“Dammit, Clint,” Natasha murmured. “You’re going to be his problem for a very long time to come whether you feel like it or not.”

Clint folded up his bow, refusing to look at her.

“And your biggest fear is that you’ll end up with someone who isn’t as big a mess as you are? People like us can have whoever we want, Clint. We just have to try harder to keep them. That’s all.”

Clint sighed, looking down but not moving away when she rested a hand on his arm.

“You think this sort of thing is foolish.”

She pulled back. “Love is bullshit, but you’re the only person I owe anything to. So if you ruin this for yourself, I’ll murder you in your sleep.”

Clint managed a laugh as Natasha walked away. “That’s a pep talk?”

“That is the best I can do,” she said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pining happens. Phil takes matters into his own hands. Which leads to breakfast and things getting a better. As well as a shower and a through examination of Phil's tattoos.

Clint spent the night outside of Phil’s door, unable to go in but unable to leave. He didn’t sleep, but that didn’t matter. One day without sleep wouldn’t kill him.

He probably would have spent the morning there, but around 0700, the door opened behind him. Clint almost fell through it. But when he looked up and saw Phil, he caught himself and all but ran for the stairs.

His own room was cold so Clint ended up taking a scalding hot shower to try and get over everything. As he toweled off, he realized he hadn’t thought about Loki in over ten hours. Great. He was starting to feel like his own person most of the time, but now it was his own damn fault that he was an insecure asshole because he wasn’t sure he could be responsible for someone else.

“I’m still here,” he pointed out to Natasha as he joined her on a coach in the gaming room.

Thor and Tony were playing _Just Dance 3_. It seemed more like a game of chicken as they picked duets and tried to see who would lose due to laughing too hard. Bruce was watching them shyly. Clint had a feeling the doctor had been invited to play, refused and then lingered around anyway.

“I said I’d kill you in your sleep. I know for a fact that you haven’t slept.”

Clint rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“This is so classic you I can hardly stand it,” she added in low tones as Tony chose another song from the game menu.

“What is?”

“Throwing in the towel before anything even happens.”

“If nothing happens, there’s no towel to throw.”

“There is when it’s you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Natasha scowled. “Give him a chance. It takes two people to ruin something, and I’ve yet to see Coulson give up on something he’s started.”

“I can’t. I have no idea how to make things work. If he wants me so badly, I’m not hard to find. He can start it.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

Clint looked up at Coulson.

“You stupid, stubborn idiot,” Coulson said. He looked irritated and exhausted, but he sounded fond and resigned. “You want me to start, I’ll start.”

Natasha smirked as she slid off the couch.

Clint felt his ears turning red. “Here?”

“No, not here.”

Tony paused the game and turned around. “It’s about damn time you stopped hibernating,” he said with a smirk.

“This has got nothing to do with you,” Coulson said.

“Geez. And after I went to bat for you and everything.”

Coulson frowned. “What did you do?”

“He thinks you’re the best,” Clint explained. “That’s all.”

Coulson rolled his eyes. “Let’s go.”

-

“I just…”

“Don’t even,” Phil said once they were in the elevator going up to Coulson’s room. “Don’t even just anything.”

“I fucked up.”

“You didn’t fuck up. If you did, I still wouldn’t care.”

“No?”

“No because you’re just trying to fuck yourself over for my sake. Which has got to be the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.”

Clint frowned. “I think it makes sense.”

“You’re the only one,” Coulson said. “And even if it did, I figured you wouldn’t say you weren’t going to panic and run off somewhere only to do so the second the opportunity presented itself. After kissing me and sleeping with me and letting me...”

“I didn’t really think it through. I didn’t have time before or after.”

Coulson shook his head. “It doesn’t bother me right now because I thought about it and I’ve decided we both can’t belong to the Clint Barton School of Problem Solving and Decision Making.”

“Which means?”

“Which means you have your way of coping and I have mine. Mine is not going to involve getting irrationally angry and giving up on you because you do something terminally foolish. Particularly not when you moped on my doorstep like some sort of sad gargoyle only to spend the night propped up against my door.”

“I couldn’t… You’re hard to stay away from.”

“Good. You shouldn’t stay away.”

“You died, Phil. I think you need to give yourself more time, and then review everything we’ve done together before deciding that being with me is an intelligent course of action.”

“You’re not a pile of paperwork I have left to deal with,” Phil pointed out. “I don’t need to review anything to know we actually could work well together once you’re less skittish.”

“I am not skittish.”

“You were this morning. That was a pretty gazelle-like sprint you employed.”

“Ah.”

“So look. If you can’t figure out what to do, at least let me give it a try.”

“It would be better,” Clint admitted.

“Good. And if you come up with any stupid reasons for why this won’t work, tell me all of them and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can only think of one reason not to. Any other excuse you give me is going in one ear and out the other.”

“What if I try to make a very compelling argument? I could sound very convincing.”

Phil shook his head.

“Okay but… What would be a good reason not to?” Clint asked.

“You telling me you don’t want this.”

It was a logical reason so Clint wasn’t sure why it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But it did.

“If you’re just trying to run away to save me from you, I’ll be able to figure it out,” Phil said. “I know you too well. Now please stop circling around me.”

“It’s what hawks do.”

 “It’s pretty stupid when a human does it,” Coulson pointed out as the elevator opened. When they got out, Coulson lightly grabbed Clint’s arm and headed for his room. He didn’t seem willing to give Clint the chance to dart off.

When they got to the door, Coulson let go of Clint’s arm. “If what happened was an accident. If anything we did wasn’t something you actually wanted or made it even harder for you to get any sleep, I just hope you can forgive me. Or find a way not to hold it against me.”

Clint frowned. “No. It wasn’t like that. _You’re_ not like that, and I’m not scared of anything you could possibly want to do with me.”

Coulson looked skeptical.

“The mistake I made was leaving. It’s a mistake I make a lot.”

Coulson sighed heavily, letting his shoulders droop a bit. “Mistakes… are something I can cope with.”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t think I deserve you. In fact I know I don’t.”

“You’re going to get me anyway,” Coulson said in a tone that sounded more like a threat than an agreement. “Because I’m sick and tired of not getting you.”

They ended up sitting on the couch eating whatever Coulson had left in his fridge and watching more _Toddlers & Tiaras_.

Clint let Coulson hold his hand even if he felt sort of letdown when the only sort of kiss he got was a very chivalrous one given mainly to a knuckle. “I told you I’m not—”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, and with you it’s probably better to go slow anyway. You tend to need positive reinforcement.”

“You want me to have feelings,” Clint accused in a gently teasing way. He squeezed Phil’s hand to make sure it was clear that he didn’t mind.

“I do. I want you to stick around.”

And even though he was the one who got to spend several hours trying to convince Phil he wouldn’t disappear, Clint was the one who went to sleep against Phil’s shoulder and with a tight grip on Phil’s arm.

-

Phil probably jostled him awake four or five times in order to check on him in some kind of sadistic way, but Clint just snapped at him and went back to sleep. He wasn’t really happy when he had to walk to the bed, but he got over it.

The seventh time he woke up was to the smell of food.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to give someone pancakes after they ditch you.”

“Positive reinforcement, Clint. If you don’t want them, I can bring them back down to Thor.”

“I’ll keep them. I don’t mind Thor getting them but he’s very big on sharing and Tony will probably rob him blind.”

Coulson smiled and set a tray down across Clint's lap.

Clint laughed at the plate he got, amused by the pancakes surrounded by sliced fruits and berries. He liked the little carafe of maple syrup on the side too. “No smiley face?”

“When you make me pancakes, you can add one.”

“It’ll happen when you least expect it.”

“I can handle a few rogue pancakes.”

Clint had never considered himself a big fan of sharing, but he made sure that Phil ate about half of what he had.

“There’s a meeting in about an hour,” Phil said when they were both done eating.

“Sounds good. Does the mission start today?”

“There’s no point to having a meeting if I tell you what it involves.”

“I just want to go for a jog later.”

“Then no. We have about four days before we head out.”

“Let’s take a shower.”

Phil chuckled. “Right. Because that’s not rushing things.”

“We’re not snails,” Clint pointed out. “I’ve seen you naked. You’ve seen me naked. The view’s great, but it’s not going to make me faint or anything.”

“Seeing you naked in Trinidad is not the same thing as you being naked in my shower.”

“Come on. I’ll behave.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Phil grumbled, but he eventually joined Clint in the bathroom.

“And I’m guessing you’re jogging with me later,” Clint said.

“Unless some crisis comes up.”

Clint checked the water once before stripping. Phil took his time. Clint didn’t call him on it since he was too busy schooling his features. 

The scar started around the center of Phil’s chest and ended to the left of his ribs. He glanced behind Phil and saw an identical one stretched out over his back.

Clint didn’t want to stare, but staring and gawking were not the same thing. He couldn’t bring himself to pretend it wasn’t there. He wondered if Phil was, and it certainly seemed like given that his handler was making a point of not even looking down.

He definitely saw better at a distance, but even upon closer inspection and review, Clint was beginning to think he’d looked at this all wrong. He wanted to see Phil as the Avenger’s zoo-keeper, but it seemed more likely that Phil was just one of the zoo’s many attractions. A seal. Or something soothing to watch like an otter. Or maybe a deceptively lazy lizard.

“Do I even want to know what you’re thinking?” Phil asked.

“No. I’ve gone from relevant to random pretty quickly.” Clint shook his head and kissed Phil’s cheek. “That’s one hell of a scar. I saw some of the stitches when you were in the hospital, but not the whole thing.”

“Pretty ugly,” Phil agreed. “Stings every now and then. The spear cauterized it to some degree on its way out.”

Clint felt keenly irritated, and mainly with himself. “Loki re-arranged your insides. Literally. But you just thought you’d listened to me go on about nothing without saying a word.”

“What happened to you was something. A significant something, and I wanted to hear about it.”

“But you’re making a point of never going on about anything.”

Phil made an effort to look completely blank.

Clint pressed his hand against the scar, and sighed. “The good news is that it’s okay. It’s great. We’re both idiots. Come here.” Then he tugged Phil into the stall.

“I’ll do you,” Clint suggested.

He focused on washing Phil’s shoulder blades first, ignoring the scar and wiping gently at the Captain America shield on Phil’s right shoulder. He paid more attention the left though since he considered the whole Green Beret thing to make up for the geekiness of Phil’s Cap Love. Besides, the insignia was hotter.

He licked at _De Opresso Liber_ then down to the edge of the scar, feeling Phil tense up and then relax. He brushed his fingers over the silver arrows and dagger in the middle. He hesitated then kissed the scar tissue then moved on.

And he let himself get a bit friskier when he was working on Phil’s chest and yelped when the water went from warm to ice cold. Still, he was more amused by it than anything else so he laughed it off and kissed Phil.

When they were done showering, Clint wrapped a towel around his waist and curled back up on the bed. He had twenty minutes. Twenty-five once Phil threw some clothes at him. “You own jeans? Wait. This is my T-shirt.”

“They’re all yours. I might have planned ahead.”

“Sneaky bastard.”

“I will eventually take full advantage of your interest in me. Just not right this second.”

Clint watched Phil put on a pretty sharp-looking charcoal suit. “Is that Prada? Or… something?”

“Brioni. Just one of many don’t-have-me-arrested-and-interrogated bribes from Stark.”

“Brionis are expensive?”

Phil gave him a look that indicated Clint was being precious in some way. “They are.”

Clint decided to give the suit a closer look. He threw on some clothes first. Then he inspected the four buttons on both sleeves before flicking the coat open to eye the red metallic lining. “Wool?”

“The lining’s Cupro, but I’m not expecting you to care about that,” Phil assured him.

Clint put his hands in Phil’s Cupro-lined pockets and gently tugged him forward. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be—“

Phil smirked and kissed him before answering. “Five hundred. You’re not lining a nest with this.”

“Gotcha. So. Tie?”

“Black.”

“Can I put it on for you?”

“Knock yourself out,” Phil said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The insignia for the Green Berets looks like [this](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:SpecialForces_Badge.svg).
> 
> Phil's suit looks like [this one](http://www.bluefly.com/Brioni-black-wool-two-button-suit-with-flat-front-pants/PDP_CROSS_SELL/318668701/detail.fly).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a mission (of sorts) is planned and sex is (finally) had.

Their diplomatic assignment —and Clint noticed Phil winced every time he had to use that phrase and the Avengers in the same sentence— wasn’t all that surprising. Asgard was one of the few places their style of negotiation would be appropriate.

“So. Wheels up in oh-four-days,” Tony said.

 _Wheels?_ Thor mouthed to Clint.

Clint just shook his head.

“I’ve heard of safety in numbers, but shouldn’t half of us stay here?” Natasha asked.

“Nay, Sir Romanov.” Thor had long-since learned to stop calling her Lady. “The more the merrier. My father wishes to meet all of you.”

That was the nice thing about Thor. He made it sort of impossible to think that poorly of any place.

Left to his own devices and based on past experiences, Clint would probably have pictured Asgard as a big dark pit. A big dark pit with a small glowing green antechamber where Loki held dominion over the alien bugs from _Starship Troopers_. And probably cackled and steepled his fingers together for hours on end as he thought of ways to ruin Thor’s afternoons.

Thanks to Thor, Clint was able to picture Asgard as a cross between a Renaissance Faire from the '80s and the Viking village from _How to Train Your Dragon_. Although he was still pretty sure there was a gaping chasm somewhere nearby with Loki’s name on it.

“It’s a short visit, but potentially a very useful one,” Phil said. “We could use allies off-world in addition to Thor.”

“As long as no one pisses off Thor’s dad,” Tony said as if he wasn’t the most likely candidate to do so.

“We could use a buddy system,” Bruce suggested, which made Natasha and Steve twitch a bit as if they’d forgotten he was around. Clint made a note to ask Phil about whether or not he thought they all needed some sensitivity training.

“It might work. There are six of us,” Steve mused.

“Seven,” Tony pointed out. “I know you’re a bit senile, Steve, but there are seven of us in this room.”

“Ah, Coul Son… Could we not have a threesome of buddies?” Thor asked.

There was a lull in the conversation as most of the Avengers tried not to die laughing.

Thor looked innocently confused before eventually figuring out what was so hilarious. Then he laughed louder than anyone else.

Steve remained stone-faced with his arms crossed as Phil pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to look at any of them. But Clint had a feeling that if Captain America hadn’t been such a spoilsport, Phil would have laughed too.

“I highly doubt Agent Coulson needs a buddy,” Natasha coolly observed.

“What about Clint?” Tony asked. “I doubt he wants his boyfriend in a threesome or with someone else.”

“I also wouldn’t want to cramp my boyfriend’s style,” Clint said with a shrug. “Besides, I want Bruce.”

“Oh hell no.”

After nine heated rounds of thumb wrestling and three rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Clint still ended up with Bruce. He smirked broadly as Tony ended up with Steve and Natasha with Thor.

“I still think it’s stupid, but honestly a buddy system could not be more appropriate,” Natasha said. “You’re all about four years old.”

Steve nodded sagely as if somehow he wasn’t included in her statement.

-

“You thought I’d freak out,” Clint said as the two of them went back up to Phil’s room.

“No, but if it wasn’t so important for all of you to become a team, I’d have found a way for you to stay behind.”

“If you’re going there, I’m going. And you better not end up needing a buddy.”

“I don’t need a buddy, but it’s not as if you and Bruce have to go wandering off like you’re Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.”

Clint grinned. “Does that make you Velma?”

“Only if I plan on stalking Tony and Captain America.”

Clint laughed and pulled Phil into a kiss. “Tony’s right, you are the best.”

“I aim to please.”

“And you were laughing during the threesome comment, weren’t you?”

“No comment.”

Phil went to see what was on television, and since Clint’s cooking experience was limited to the month he’d spent in London living on Pot Noodle, he yelled a Chinese Food order up to JARVIS. Then told him to place it in about four hours.

He went down to his room, shoved whatever he thought he’d care about into a duffle bag and brought everything up to Phil’s floor. Then he changed into an old T-shirt and running shorts.

Phil was where he’d left him. One of the Public Access channels was showing a documentary on the Superheroes of WWII. Or it would be at some point. First some old guy dressed as Bucky was asking for donations.

“You’re so cute with how you can’t call him Steve,” Clint said.

“I don’t think any of us deserve to be on a first name basis with Captain America.”

“Well, I don’t think being featured on a beach towel makes him a legend.”

“And I don’t think someone who spent his formative years wishing Namor would turn up at his circus and propose to him should have much to say about how or whom I hero-worship.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I really hate that I told you that.”

“If you’d just waited for Natasha, you wouldn’t have.”

“She thinks it was the best time we ever had, but I totally hated Budapest.”

“Any time she works with you is the best time she’s ever had.”

“Then she’s a sadist. So. Jogging. I’m going. You’re going. There will be fresh air and sweat and it’ll be great.”

“I’ll go change.”

They kept the same pace for a long time. Clint came close to crashing into a few signposts as he checked for any indications that Phil needed to call it quits. He figured he'd worry about being discreet when more time had passed. And Clint didn’t mind being the one to say he wanted to head back first.

They raided the kitchen and went back upstairs. Food was coming, but Clint hadn’t mentioned it yet. Besides, some Bagel Bites wouldn’t kill either one of them. And Phil had wanted to snag some beer.

“We could go somewhere,” Clint suggested, straddling Phil’s legs. “Out or… There’s a movie theater on the third floor.”

“And a gym on the fourth,” Phil agreed, resting his hands on Clint’s sides. “I do venture out. I just don’t make a general announcement every time I’m around.”

“But you’ll let me know?”

“I’ll let you know,” Phil said with a smile.

“So. Most of my stuff’s up here because I don’t have a lot of it. I thought it would cut down on my stupider impulses. I mean, I don’t have to stay here but…”

Phil leaned in and kissed Clint’s cheek. Then his lips. “I think you do.”

“Shower?”

“I can’t handle another shower like that.”

Clint considered this and grinned. “Shower after?”

Phil nodded.

They didn’t have much to shed in terms of clothing. Clint was perfectly content to collapse onto the couch, tugging Phil down on top of him.

“I knew I’d wear you down pretty quickly,” Clint admitted. “You’re not going to ask questions at awkward intervals?”

“No. I don’t plan on doing much in the way of talking.”

“Cool.” Clint kissed Phil far more thoroughly than he had up into that point, letting his hands curl around Phil’s shoulders.

Phil spread Clint’s legs, pulling his knees up and sliding Clint forward. There was a moment when he thought Phil would ask him something but Clint just kissed him that much harder.

When Clint finally let up, Phil bit at Clint’s neck before kissing his way down to a shoulder. One hand wrapped around Clint’s cock and stroked lightly then a bit faster.

The other one caressed Clint’s right knee before grabbing his hands when they started to venture lower.

“What about you?” Clint asked.

Phil leaned back down, biting at Clint’s ear. He kissed the archer’s wrists slowly before answering. “We’re getting there. Stay still.”

Clint wasn’t inclined to disagree seeing as he’d gone without sex a lot longer than he’d meant to already. He bit back a moan, arching his back only to get pushed down further into the couch cushions.

The strokes came a bit faster. Phil eventually released Clint’s hands and reached behind them into the armrest organizer where he kept various remote controls. And lube and condoms apparently.

“Might have planned ahead, my ass,” Clint murmured.

“I was hopeful,” Phil said. He stopped stroking, slicking up one hand and then kissing Clint again.

Clint let Phil keep the lube, but he grabbed condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth. He wrapped his fingers briefly around Phil’s cock, caressing its head before rolling the condom down.

One finger than another entered him, making him squirm. Another one joined the two, and Phil seemed about to lean down and suck Clint off.

He shoved gently at Phil’s forehead with the palm of his right hand. “Both of us. Now.”

Phil eyed him with mild amusement as if he wasn’t sure what Clint meant. But of course he did.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m getting there.”

“Hurry it up. Please.”

Phil grinned and relented, giving Clint what he wanted.

Once they were moving in tandem, Phil’s hands rested on Clint’s hips. Clint put his arms around Phil’s neck and his kisses swallowed up most of Phil’s grunts. Phil eventually moved his own hands lower, stroking and working to finish what they’d started. Clint came first, and Phil followed suit.

After Phil pulled out, Clint dragged him back down for a few minutes, running his hands through Phil’s short hair and kissing at his scar.

“The world didn’t end,” Clint said when he could be bothered to do something about the comfortable silence they’d lapsed into.

“I guess we’ll have to try harder.”

-

In the shower, Clint blinked water out of his eyes, watching Phil get to his knees. Warm lips wrapping around Clint’s length as Clint leaned back against the wet wall behind them. Phil licked Clint’s balls then Clint’s cock before taking him in deeper, sucking hard.

Clint joined Phil on the tile not long after that, shoving Phil back to his feet so Clint could give as good as he got. Phil’s fingers buried themselves in Clint’s hair, tugging lightly as Clint used his tongue.

They were drying off when the food arrived. Clint had been enjoying the moment, resting his forehead against the curve of his handler’s neck and ignoring everything else. He wasn’t too thrilled about moving, but he didn’t argue when Phil threw on some clothes to deal with the deliveryman before someone else stole their carryout.

Clint didn’t feel like it, but he put on some clothes anyway. And he only ate because it seemed to be the best way to get Phil to do so. He also made sure to casually smack Phil’s wrist with a chopstick whenever the other man tried to steal some cashew chicken with peapods.

“Why don’t you have a SHIELD tattoo?”

“The older I get, the less I feel like I need a tattoo to prove I belong to something.”

“Hm. Can you get a hawk?”

Phil finished chewing up a pot sticker before laughing. “Sure. I’ll get a bunch of tattoos and infiltrate a Russian gulag.”

“Hot. You can get a bat right here,” he said, tapping Phil’s unscarred pectoral with a chopstick. Then Clint tapped his right arm. “And a tiger here. And a manacle on each wrist. And a star on each knee.”

Phil caught his hand as Clint tapped at his knees. “Keep your utensils to yourself, Barton.”

Clint rummaged through the bag and found an extra set of chopsticks. “Can I use these? I can think of a few more great locations.”

“Sure. If I can have all the fortune cookies.”

Clint tossed the paper packet back down into the bag where it would be forgotten along with copious amounts of soy sauce, duck sauce and sweet & sour sauce. “Jerk.”

When they were done, Clint cleaned up what little there was to deal with.

Back on the couch, Phil was using his tablet and shifting through his e-mail.

Clint shoved him forward, settling down behind him up against one armrest. “Got a lot to check?”

“Tons. I’ve been ignoring it.”

“Give me that.”

“You’re not playing _Iron Angry Birds_.”

“No, I’m not because you still won’t buy it. But give it over anyway. I’m trying to be pretty awesome.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We never finished _Longarm_ and the _Diary of Madam Velvet_ when you were in the hospital. I figured I could read the rest if nothing else.”

Phil colored slightly, but he handed the tablet over.

Clint grinned. “Relax, hoss. I’m not judging you. If anything, I’m addicted too.”

“How many of them did you read?”

“I think I read about twenty of them. To you. I don’t know if it kept you in a coma or not, but…”

Phil smiled wistfully. “I’m not surprised that you did that but… I don’t remember. Can you start back at the beginning?”

“Of course I can.”

It wasn’t that anything involving Longarm was romantic or even all that good, but every now and then something seemed to get lodged in Clint’s throat when he thought about how this almost hadn’t happened. So he’d make some excuse to take a break to haul Phil up into a kiss. Or stroke his arm. Or hold him that much tighter. Even if he wasn’t sure why he had what he did, he wasn’t too upset to have feelings about what he’d gotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the comments and the kudos so far! 
> 
> According to [this site](http://russiancriminaltattoo.blogspot.com/2009/01/russian-criminal-tattoos-have-complex.html), the tattoos Clint suggests mean the following:  
> bat = night thief, tiger = aggression towards police officers, manacle = 5 years in prison and stars on the knees = you bow to no authority. 
> 
> And for some reason I just love the idea of Coulson reading Westerns. I picked a book in the [Longarm series](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longarm_\(book_series\)%0A) because the titles all amused me and because they tend to be action-packed. And racy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miniature golf and family game night. And other bonding rituals.

The next day consisted of a similar routine although the order in which they did things changed. For one thing, Clint woke up to Thor banging at Phil’s door. He answered it, blinking a bit as Thor boomed on about how Clint had promised to take him miniature golfing.

Clint went back to the bed, and kissed Phil for a bit then went downstairs to the kitchen. Thor at least was smart enough to make him coffee and hand him a Cliff Bar before bringing up the subject again.

The outing had been originally intended as something they would just do together as manly warriors of virtue, but it was impossible to tell Bruce they were going without ultimately inviting him. The really great thing about Bruce was he didn’t make you feel guilty. He simply seemed happy for you and then you felt like it would really suck to go somewhere without him.

Then it ended up Natasha had never been miniature golfing, and Steve shyly admitted he sucked at the sport. So naturally they needed to be included.

They were heading out the door when Tony spotted them and promptly invited himself along. This resulted in Clint going back upstairs to let Phil know what the hell was going on.

Phil stretched, yawned and then claimed to be allergic to AstroTurf but that he’d tell Sitwell to meet them there.

“I just want to say I think it’s great. You and Agent Coulson,” Steve said when they were stuck at the haunted castle on hole nine. Well, Steve was stuck. Clint had already completed the course, and he figured it wasn’t right to leave Captain America alone for long periods of time.

Two holes ahead of them, Natasha was swearing up a storm at a wooden camel and sand dunes that weren’t cooperating.

One hole ahead of Tasha, in front of a giant beaker tube full of purple glitter that erupted whenever a golf ball past through, Tony and Bruce were flirting. It was… Sort of ridiculous, but Clint didn’t feel inclined to say so.

At the eighteenth hole, Thor was coming perilously close to hitting a statue of Abraham Lincoln with his club for ‘absconding with his golf ball like a wretched, thieving magpie.’

“Thanks,” Clint said.

Steve nodded, frowning as he tried to line up his shot. “I needed those cards, I think, but I didn’t need him dead. We need men like Coulson. I’m very glad he’s alive.”

“Of course you are,” Clint said, a little surprised to find he wasn’t being even slightly sarcastic. “Those cards aren’t on you anyway. You and Tony got played more than a little bit. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a hero.”

Steve shook his head. “Being made into a hero was hard to live up to back then. And it’s still hard now.”

“I bet. Plus? You had every right to be weirded out by Phil at first. He pretty much thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”

Steve blinked then beamed. “You still use that expression?”

“I can use it more often if you want.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He swore when the stupid green ghost prevented the golf ball from going into the haunted house for the umpteenth time. A raven came out of a window and caw-cawed obnoxiously. “Goddammit. I’ve had it. I’m about to go up there and give that bird a piece of my mind.”

Clint wished he’d thought to bring his smart phone or even a tape recorder. “You know what? Let’s just pretend you got the ball in somehow and move on.”

“…You can do that?”

“Sure. I think everyone cheats at miniature golf.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said then he looked horror-stricken. “For fuck’s sake, Thor, don’t hit the president!”

-

They ate a late lunch at an Olive Garden. Tony drank all their wine samples, and Steve would not stop devouring garlic bread-sticks. Thor kept eyeing his menu irritably and hating on the portion sizes. Which lead to him waxing poetically nostalgic about all the boars he’d hunted and eaten over the years. Bruce, Clint and Natasha all opted for soup and salad.

There was a note under Phil’s door that said he was in the gym. There was also a fancy or at least high-tech keycard for Phil’s room tucked into the paper. Clint pocketed it before heading to level four.

“How was golf?” Phil asked once he got off the treadmill.

“How’s your allergy?”

Phil just smiled.

“Let’s see. You missed Thor almost beating up Abraham Lincoln and Natasha decapitating a fake camel. Then Tony made out with Dr. Banner so we got kicked out and went to lunch. It was nice. Mostly. I think I’m going to become a vegetarian.”

“While we’re in Asgard or just in general?”

“You’ve heard about the boars?”

Phil grimaced and moved over to the weights. “I don’t remember good things like you reading to me, but I remember the dark times when Natasha read Tolstoy for hours on end and Thor told me about his favorite recipes.”

“Do you remember the Cap/Coulson fan mix Tony made for you?”

“…No.”

“It was mostly made up of Christina Aguilera songs.”

“That’s not really a fan mix.”

“I know, right?”

Phil shook his head. “I’d get annoyed, but it’s sort of the least offensive thing Stark’s done in a while.”

“Uh huh. Hey, JARVIS!”

There was a pause. Then the ceiling said: “Yes, Agent Barton?”

“What’s that Cap/Coulson playlist called?”

JARVIS hesitated then sighed in the most apologetically British way imaginable. “There were several, but I believe the one you’re referring to is called Ain’t No Other Man. It also has a subtitle which reads What a Girl Wants.”

Phil set the weights down and wiped his brow with a towel. “Thanks, JARVIS. That will be all.”

“You are quite welcome, Agent Coulson.”

“Still not annoyed?” Clint asked as they left the gym.

“I’m going to do what I always do and pretend that Stark has some kind of inoperable brain tumor that requires me to tolerate and pity him. It makes my life a lot easier.”

-

It wasn’t surprising when Tony interrupted them a few hours later as Clint was showing off his shooting gallery. Really, it was sort of impressive that no one had checked in on them sooner.

Clint put down his bow, but Phil was a bit slower to give Tony his attention.

Tony stood there, looking amused with his arms crossed.

Phil emptied his clip and handed the empty gun off to Clint. “That one’s not bad. Yes, Stark?”

“We’re watching a movie and eating pizza. Can you be bothered to join us or are you allergic to wheat and dairy too?”

“What movie?”

 _Alien_. Oh and you can come too, Clint. If you stop giving me that look.”

Clint was glad he’d put both the bow and gun down because he probably would have thrown both of them at Tony’s thick skull. “I will end you if that’s your idea of a joke.”

“Huh?” Tony blinked. “Oh. Wow. Damn. Okay, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I sort of like those movies,” Phil mused before glancing at Clint. “But something a little lighter might be good. Has Steve seen _Lilo & Stitch_?”

“No, and that won’t work,” Clint said, slightly embarrassed to admit that he’s seen the movie. “Because Ohana means family and that means no one gets left behind and Thor loves Loki.”

Both men stared at him.

“What? Doesn’t anyone pay attention to anyone else around here?”

“Let’s just… How about we play a video game?” Tony actually waited for Clint to nod encouragingly before proceeding. “A video game with… zombies?”

Clint shook his head.

“I don’t know what that has to do with any- No. Never mind. Do we like games with elves?”

Clint nodded. “We do.”

“Okay, a video game with elves. And seriously, Clint, I’m sorry.”

“Go order me pizza and I’ll forgive you,” Clint suggested.

“Geez, you’re bossy.  Are you sure your last name’s Barton? You’re a lot like Pepper. Less freckles but it’s kinda hot. If Coulson leaves you for Steve, let me know.”

“Move along, Stark,” Phil said.

“Yeah. Sure. Pizza.”

“Freaking ridiculous,” Clint muttered when Tony was gone. Clint tried not to feel bad because he liked Tony all right. But what the hell?

“ _Alien_ isn’t going to make me flashback to the fifteen minutes I spent around Loki.”

“Maybe you don’t mind watching aliens puncture holes through people’s chests, but I really need less of that in my life. Not more.”

“I understand.”

Clint sighed. “Phil, this team needs you keeping an eye on it. A lot. We can spend all the time together that you want, and obviously I want that too… But I think we all need a week of sensitivity training. Between this and half of us not being comfortable with Bruce… I mean, what the fuck. I’m probably well-adjusted compared to some of them.”

“There’s a reason why bloody cards worked so well on this bunch,” Phil pointed out before kissing Clint’s hands. “And you’re right. I’m still not going miniature golfing but you’re right. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Phil smiled. “So. Why are zombies a problem?”

“That was me giving him a hard time. Can’t let Tony think he got to call the shots.”

“Too bad you’re not a handler. I’d assign you to Stark in a heartbeat.”

“It’s a good thing. I’d either break his face or end up sleeping with him.”

-

For their team-friendly video game, Tony picked out _Link’s Crossbow Training_. Natasha declined, but Steve was very eager to shoot at non-existent targets. So it was Bruce who ended up with the highest score. And that was because Tony cheerfully suggested Clint play it with a blindfold on so it would a fair game.

Clint had agreed and it had all worked out although not as Tony had envisioned since everyone agreed that a) Clint would not have to spin around eight times before trying to hit a target and b) if anyone helped him out, it should be Coulson.

So Phil’s hands stayed on Clint’s arms, and every now and then he murmured a few pointers. 

Thor was still addicted to _Just Dance 3_ so after the pizza got there and everyone else seemed less eager to shoot at non-existent things, Thor took over the Wii.

Clint caught up with Natasha. That meant he asked questions and she sort of answered them if she felt like sharing. He wrapped a hand around Phil’s every once in a while just because he could.

Steve and Phil hadn’t really talked much, but they did all right. Most of the awkwardness was gone although Clint was positive it would come rushing back in spades if and when Steve saw the tattoo. Then again, Steve’s opinion of Phil had improved so maybe it wouldn’t matter so much.

Since movies seemed a bit too problematic, they switched to Mad Libs with rules in place to keep anyone from being too scientific, incredibly inappropriate or too Asgardian. This ended up making the game virtually unplayable even after everyone had had at least one drink.

They moved on to Scrabble, which had similar problems but also gave them points. Everyone liked points and winning even if most of them tried to pretend to be a good sport when they lost. In the end, Bruce beat Natasha by 3 points.

Steve suggested Pinochle, and they ended up with just enough people to play it after his explanation put Tony and Thor to sleep. And convinced Natasha that something needed her urgent attention elsewhere.

Steve and Bruce ended up being good partners who could figure out ways to give the other a subtle tip as to what suit they were going with. After getting Steve’s amused approval, Phil kept taking Clint’s hand away so he could re-arrange the cards so Clint would know what to play next. They lost by a lot.

“I know it’s my fault, but we’re doing this in a weird backwards way,” Clint said thoughtfully sometime after they’d gone back upstairs, fooled around and got into bed.

Phil glanced over at him. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault. Nothing we do is ever all that linear.”

“So you’re not disappointed?” He wasn’t sure if he’d always need to check in, but for now Clint sort of needed the confirmation.

Phil leaned over, wrapping an arm around Clint’s shoulders and kissing his hair. “No. I think I’m happy.”

“I think I might be too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the idea of the team playing miniature golf, and after that a family game night just seemed very appropriate. 
> 
> As for Thor's recipes... Well, that's probably best saved for another fic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Asgard.

Clint was not a fan of Bifrost. He didn’t hate heights and Heimdall seemed neat if fairly stoic, but he didn't being on some shiny metallic bridge overlooking a lot of empty space. 

He wasn’t alone in his opinion given the grip Natasha had on one of his arms and the look on Steve’s face.

“Come, there’s much to see,” Thor said walking along the rainbow beam as though it was a sidewalk.

Tony and Phil followed after him. Bruce knelt down and tapped the bridge before jogging after them.

Steve surged forward with a grim look. Then he glanced over his shoulder and doubled-back. He placed one hand on Natasha’s arm and the other on Clint’s. “Hey, I know this is rough but standing here won’t help. So let’s go.”

Steve shoved both Natasha and Clint forward, herding them away from the edge by standing closer to it himself.

“The faster you move, the faster we’re off this damn thing,” he said.

Natasha scuttled and Clint dragged his feet.

“Look up at least,” Steve suggested.

Clint stared at the shiny, carved structures illuminated by red clouds and light from distant worlds. He felt sort of ill.

Thor joined them halfway across, tilting his head in confusion. He left Steve to help Natasha and gently pulled Clint along.

“I confess I did not think this would strike you as strange given what you’ve seen. Not to mention the heights you’ve climbed to or the ledges you’ve perched on.”

Clint shook his head. “This is not the same thing.”

“No. It is safer for I will not let anything happen to you nor anyone else.”

The bridge seemed to go on forever, but Clint was grateful that Thor didn't try to convince him to ride one of the horses they'd been brought. He was even happier when Thor handed him off to Phil once they were on the planet proper. All the same, Clint looked back to make sure Tasha and Steve were still coming before taking the opportunity to huddle next to Phil.

“Pretty neat,” Phil said, rubbing Clint’s arms soothingly.

“Yeah, whatever.”

There was a loud braying and the stomping of loud hooves. Clint dug his nails into Phil’s sides.

“Clint, honestly. That’s just Odin and his mount, Sleipnir.”

“Only just?” Clint muttered irritably. He refused to look up at Phil knowing he probably looked like a kid in a candy store. Phil was a sucker for anything unusual, alien or legendary.

Phil kissed Clint’s temple before whispering, “This might not seem like much of one, but it’s a mission. Can you handle this or do you need to go back?”

Clint shook his head. He wasn’t setting foot on that stupid Bifrost thing again until he absolutely had to. “I can handle it.”

He crossed his arms, letting Phil go make nice with Odin.

Natasha eyed him quizzically once she joined him. Clint just shrugged, and she patted his shoulder.

Steve patted him on the back a few seconds later, which was oddly comforting. “We’re the only ones who aren’t going to think this is normal, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Seems like it.”

“Sure beats the heck out of feeling this way all on my own,” Steve said with a warm smile, and that made Clint feel a bit better too.

They all moved forward once Thor made some frantic motioning gestures.

Odin, who seemed sort of like Hannibal Lector crossed with Nick Fury, offered up pleasantries and a cursory nod before departing. The only people who seemed to receive anything approaching interest or warmth outside of Thor was Phil and Bruce. But then Phil and Bruce seemed to be the only people enjoying themselves outside of Tony. And Tony was too busy filming everything with his phone to care about Odin's opinion.

Thor seemed satisfied by the reception, and a little bit relieved. Clint decided not to consider what might have happened if Odin had been less impressed.

“There will be a feast later and many more people to meet. Everything else will be much more to your liking,” Thor insisted. “And I should like for you to meet my other friends.”

Sif and the Warriors Three were pretty hilarious. Tony seemed to get along with the guys, but fared about as well with Sif as he usually did with Natasha. Bruce seemed out of his element, but everyone else was either polite or friendly. Clint smiled and even laughed a few times, but he wasn’t thrilled about Phil being off somewhere talking to high-powered aliens on his own.

Before the feast, they were each offered authentic Asgardian garb to change into with the understanding that no one’s feelings would be slighted if they refused. Natasha and Steve exercised their right to decline, but Clint joined the rest of them in accepting the garments once Thor admitted to selecting them.

“You look like a fairy prince,” Natasha said eying the purple and black leather ensemble Clint had been given and that Thor had insisted was casual wear. Clint’s favorite parts were the boots, but he didn’t mind the shirt, breeches, ornate silver belt, and tunic.

“He sort of is,” Tony said with a smirk. He’d been given something a bit showier in red and gold brocade. “Since your boyfriend’s—” Then he yelped when Steve grabbed his ear.

“Lay off, Stark.”

“Lighten up, Cap. I’m joking.”

“Joke about your own damn self,” Steve growled, “not members of your team.”

“I’m fine,” Clint said. “Seriously. My honor has not been besmirched or anything like that.”

Steve scowled and folded his arms. “I’m not fine with it. You’re clearly in a committed relationship, but this bozo is attempting to put some moves on you.”

Clint wanted to say something, but he was too busy trying not to laugh.

“They’re a horrible combination of super sweet and super misguided,” Bruce said once Tony and Steve left to have some sort of powwow in a dark corridor nearby. He’d been given something similar to Clint’s but in an olive green and with more silver embellishments.

“Absolutely,” Natasha agreed.

Clint wasn’t surprised that the seat next to Phil had been kept for him, but he was a little embarrassed about sitting on a dais away from his team.

Phil had kept his own suit, but didn’t seem to mind Clint’s costume change. Although he did frown at the quiver and bow as Clint set them down on the back of his chair.

“Thor said everyone takes weapons to dinner.”

“I see.”

All of the food on the table had eyes, and he didn’t like how the dead boars stared at him when Phil was kissing his hand.

“Sorry about before,” Phil added in a solemn tone. “With the bridge.”

“You didn’t do anything. I just hate this… being out of my element thing.”

“You pull the clothes off well.”

“And you can have fun getting me out of them when this is—” He paused, noticing everyone’s conversations had hushed and several guards were coming in.

Even though he had a good idea about what they were bringing with them, he was still startled to watch Loki get chained to a table at the far end of the great hall. The god looked roughly the same as before. A few small bruises here and there. The worst part was his mouth, which had been neatly sewn up.

Clint wanted very badly to have no reaction at all but he still flinched when Loki grinned at him. Lips moving up against tight knots in gold cord.

Thor shot to his feet and in no uncertain terms made it clear that Loki’s condition as well as his presence was highly unacceptable.

“No offense, my lady. But. What is he doing here?” Phil asked the woman next to him. Clint had no idea who she was, but he suspected she was Thor’s mom.

Her lips were pursed and it took her a moment to answer as she watched father and son bellow at each other like overgrown hippos. “We want you to see that he has been punished even if it is not how you might have wished it done.”

Phil cleared his throat, and although it wasn’t very detectable, he was clearly angry. “On our world the punished are rarely seated so close to others. They do not attend gatherings or feasts. And we do not show off what sort of punishments they’ve received.”

“He cannot harm you. Indeed, I cannot imagine why he would.”

Clint clenched a fist under the table, and looked around the room until he found Natasha. He inclined his head towards the door, and she nodded.

“You know what, I’ve changed my mind,” Clint said, getting to his feet.

 “Barton,” Steve urged.

“No,” Clint said, startled by how loud he sounded not that everyone had fallen silent.

“Clint,” Phil said, getting to his feet. “We can figure out—”

“Phil… I can’t handle this and I’m going home.”

“Might one inquire as to why, Sir Barton?”

Clint could only bring himself to look at Odin from the corner of one eye, but he turned in his direction. “Because I’m not going to sit here and try to tolerate Loki’s--” He stopped himself from swearing and tried to think of how Thor would put it. “His odious presence during about what? Ten courses of food?”

The god raised his visible eyebrow, glancing at Thor before focusing on Clint. “He offends you, does he? My second son?”

Clint sighed, raising his head and looking at Odin. He took comfort in the fact that Phil was holding his arm gently in an effort to be supportive rather than a placating manner as if that might entice him to sit down or shut up. “I’m sorry, but yeah. Yes. He shouldn’t be here. Not when he’s attacked my planet, my country and people that matter to me a hell of a lot more to me than amusing you over dinner.”

“None of us want Loki to be a part of our time here in your world,” Natasha said, rising up from the next table over.

“To think we would is almost as offensive as bringing him here in the first place,” Bruce added quietly as he also got up.

Odin eyed them. Then he looked over at the Avengers who hadn’t spoken even though they'd all gotten to their feet. Then he considered Phil.

“Perhaps your customs are different, but we tend to avoid eating with people who have killed and tortured innocent people,” Phil said. “Our world was threatened by your son. Seeing him doesn’t ease any of our anxiety in regards to peaceful relations between our planet and yours.”

Odin sat back down, and from what Clint could make out he didn’t seem particularly agitated. Or even slightly surprised. “Your request seems like a very sensible one. Have Loki taken back to his quarters.”

There was a sound of large, ornate chair scraping across the floor. Before he could think better of it, Clint turned towards the direction it came from.

Loki used his hands to blow Clint a kiss before he took a polite bow. With a sinister smirk, he let himself be dragged back out of the hall again.

Clint stared at him, blinking a bit when Phil hauled him back down to a chair.

“That’s not your intended, is it?” Odin was asking his son.

Thor frowned but settled for shaking his head. “He is a friend.”

“I can understand your desire to return to Midgard. I cannot remember the last time a mortal was so very honest and blunt with me.”

Clint had no idea what happened during the rest of their time in the hall. He could tell Phil had no idea what to do either outside of force people to steer clear of them by whatever means seemed necessary.

Under the table, Phil’s hands were fists. Clint slowly uncurled one of them, clutching it in his and making an effort to think about anything but Loki.

-

In the hallway, Clint was a little surprised by how concerned everyone on his team was. Natasha kept touching his cheek and Steve kept directing traffic away from them.

Thor said that his father wished to have a word with Phil and that the rest of them were probably better off waiting in his quarters. Clint wasn’t sure if he had a harder time letting go or if Phil did, but it was painful to be steered off in the opposite direction.

And since the anguish was fairly palpable he ended up getting a massive hug from Bruce.

“That was some speech,” Steve murmured when they were drinking mead and silently wondering if Odin was going to kill them in their sleep. “I can’t decide if you’re reckless, brave as hell or both.”

“Both, but that was so damn stupid,” Tony said, rubbing his temples. “And I know from stupid. Next time give us a second and one of us will tell that old pirate where to shove it.”

Clint just looked down and shook his head. “I didn’t want to be there. It might have sounded all grand and noble but I was going to rip my own arms off if I had to be in the same room as him.”

Bruce rubbed his back, and Clint leaned against Natasha, who wrapped one arm around him.

“Anyone would have felt the same way,” Tony said. “I think we all were about ready to rip into something when that douchebag strolled in.”

Phil and Thor came back. Thor looked exhausted and kept nodding his head when Phil kept angrily whispering something at him.

“How’d it go?”

“I don’t even think I care,” Phil muttered.

“You need not,” Thor assured him.

“Well. Is the mission salvageable?” Bruce asked and it seemed obvious he wasn’t speaking out of concern for their hosts.

Phil loosened his tie and gently shoved Natasha to the left as he sat down next to Clint. “Such as it is seeing as this is hardly a mission at all. If it’s not, then so much the better.”

“Are you allowed to say that?” Tony wondered.

Phil shrugged. “We were never the right fit for this, and if it offended anyone then… Fine. Let them be offended.”

“They offended us first,” Bruce pointed out.

“Serves them right for sending us on a diplomatic mission,” Steve agreed.

Clint looked over at their Asgardian, and wondered how he was doing. “Hey, uh, Thor… I’m sorry.”

Thor looked confused.

“Loki’s your brother and that’s your father and I don’t want to make things hard for you.”

Thor’s shoulders hunched as he stared at the fire pit between all of them, flicking at a coal as it rolled out towards his boots. “Clint, if this homecoming has taught me anything it is that my family is very difficult to endure and even harder to love. So it is I who needs must apologize to you. To everyone. That was unconscionable.”

“And not your fault,” Bruce murmured, touching Thor’s arm.

Thor didn’t look so sure. “As for my father, I regret to say that your speech delighted him. It is an unfortunate side-effect of longevity, but he has always liked to put people on edge and see what they do.”

“Charming,” Natasha murmured, reaching around Phil to stroke Clint’s hair. Then she decided Phil should be the one doing it and positioned them both accordingly.

“I hope your father will enjoy seeing me give him the bird the entire time I’m crossing that stupid rickety rainbow bridge you’ve got,” Steve grumbled.

“Are you positive Loki was adopted?” Bruce asked, patting Thor’s shoulder before moving away.

Thor smiled weakly.

“What else did Odin want?” Natasha asked.

Phil sighed heavily. “Oh... He asked if Clint was a typical Midgardian.”

Thor perked up a bit. “And you told him that a Midgardian like Clint is pretty rare and hard to come by. Which was quite sweet.”

Phil looking flustered was amusing if nothing else. He cleared his throat and shrugged. “It seemed stupid to start lying. Anyway, then he asked if I thought Clint would strongly object to being a warrior-ambassador of sorts.”

Thor grinned. “At which point the Son of Coul told Odin, Lord of War, Victory, Death, and Wisdom, to fuck off.”

Clint laughed and looked up. “Really?”

 “What else was there to say? It was the stupidest request I’d heard all day, and absolutely the easiest one to turn down.” Phil smiled, but the expression seemed forced and really anxious. “You don’t mind?”

Clint shook his head. “No. I don’t mind.”

“And I don’t want to stay here for much longer,” Tony said. “I mean, we can come back sometime but right now we should just be done. Right?”

“Right,” Steve agreed.

Thor nodded sadly. “Let me at least show you some pleasant sights tomorrow, and then we can leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I did actually look for proof that Steve would know the word bozo. And I'm inclined to believe [this article](http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-boz1.htm).


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet time. Tour time. Loki time.

The rooms Phil had been given were almost as ridiculous as Thor’s. It was covered in wood and metal panels carved with wolves and possibly trolls engaged in some epic combat. The bed was to the left side of the room on yet another dais. It was large enough for about eight people.

Clint let Phil strip him then he buried himself in the large white fur pelt covering Phil’s bed.

“We can do stuff,” he mumbled, not really interested in moving but pretty sure his mood would be improved tenfold by sex.

“We or me?” Phil asked before joining him.

Clint grunted a non-answer, groaning happily as Phil worked kneading several knots out of his back and shoulders.

“No preference?”

“We, but I’m okay with you doing the work.”

“Just like old times,” Phil mused, but he didn’t sound even remotely disappointed.

Clint stretched a bit, yawned and obediently let his limbs stay wherever Phil winded up arranging them.

Phil kissed at the side of Clint’s neck then in-between his shoulder blades. “What you did back there—”

“Sex first then you can go on and on about how heroic I am.”

“I’m just sorry I get caught up in preventing things from bothering me. I’m so busy tuning them out that even when they bother you I—”

“Sex first, Phil. Or I pass out now.”

“All right.”

When nothing much happened outside of some gentle massages to his arms, Clint growled under his breath. “Dammit, Phil. I think you’re an excellent boyfriend who trusts me to look after myself. Now stop moping and fuck me.”

For a moment, he was left to his own devices, but then Phil finally got around to prepping him. Slicked up fingers pushed in and Phil reached around with his other hand, cupping Clint’s erection. Phil brushing the tip up against the warm furs beneath them as his fingers continued caressing the rest of him.

Clint groaned happily, sighing a bit when the fingers left and Phil slid into him. He came first into Phil’s hand, making encouraging noises until the other man joined him.

He let Phil get the ruined fur out of the way since there were plenty more underneath it, and Clint also clean them both off. Then he rolled over until he found Phil and curled up next to him.

Phil wrapped one arm around Clint’s chest, absently brushing his thumb back and forth over bare skin.

“All the same,” Phil began after awhile. Then he lapsed into silence, stroking Clint’s hair with his free hand.

“Phil. I don’t expect you to cater to my every whim or concern 24-7 because we’re in a relationship.”

“I could do a better job of addressing your concerns,” Phil mused. “Back on Bifrost… You were upset.”

Clint scowled, refusing to roll over and face Phil because he liked what Phil’s fingers were doing. Instead he kissed at whatever digits were close to him and sighed. “You know I’m not actually scared of heights. I mean, half the time I’m jumping from one. And you knew there was really no way to fall off that thing and die with Thor there. Or Steve. Or Tony. Or whoever.”

He felt Phil nod behind him so Clint just continued. “We have a team. We’re on a team, and I probably will still think of you as my handler because you did a good job with what you were given but… That’s the best part of all this. There are plenty of people to watch anyone else’s six.”

“I know. I just don’t want to do the worst job of looking out for you,” Phil said.

Clint sighed as he tried to think of a way to get Phil to stop fretting. “How about we table this discussion indefinitely and if you’re still worried three months from now? I’ll do a performance evaluation. You’ll give me forms, I’ll fill them in and we can discuss the improvements you need. It’ll be great. You like forms and feedback.”

“Brat.”

“Pretty much,” Clint agreed. He turned over and kissed Phil’s cheek. “Did you really tell Odin to fuck off?”

Phil smiled, running a finger over Clint’s lips. “I believe my exact words were ‘With all due respect, please fuck off.’ But yes.”

“You do something like that, and then you still worry about whether you do right by me or not?”

Phil sighed heavily. “I really want to do right by you.”

“Then continue to do it,” Clint advised, “and go to sleep.”

-

Thor’s guided tour was actually enjoyable even if Clint was beginning to think he really, really wouldn’t mind if the Warriors Stooge refrained from visiting Earth for a while. He imagined that if he’d grown up with Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral, he wouldn’t have felt so irritated by them, but even then it was hard to say.

Something about them reminded Clint way too much of high school jocks who would come around the circus grounds to lob rocks at performers and the little birds that were pecking the ground for crumbs. And this reminded him of all the times he’d hid in a tree and thrown rocks back at them.  Not exactly ideal behavior for a superhero, but that was beside the point.

He liked Sif well enough, but she was bonding pretty hardcore with Natasha so Clint had been steering clear of them. After all the years of Natasha being able to count her friends on one hand and still have five fingers left, he wasn’t going to get in the way of her branching out.

Really the only thing bothering Clint was the lack of functioning comm links since they hadn’t been able to use them at all on Asgard. Tony’s suit and gadgets seemed to be working properly, but not having that direct line of communication to Phil made him a little anxious. It definitely made Clint wish he had a good excuse to go find his boyfriend, but after telling Phil he didn’t want to be looked after, Clint was trying very hard to resist the impulse to be the clingy one in their relationship.

“Is it just me or does this pretty much explain way too much about why Loki is such a little shit-heel?” Tony asked him as they followed everyone else towards some other glowing tower that housed treasures and memories that would lead to more in-jokes.

Clint shrugged. “I hate to say it, but yeah. It sort of does.”

“Doesn’t make it okay,” Tony hurriedly added. “Just. Could you imagine being someone with an inflated sense of importance and a pretty decent IQ putting up with Lock, Shock and Barrel?”

“No. Then again you’re doing all right so maybe there’s still hope left in the world.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You’re hilarious, Faramir.”

“Honestly, you two. They’re Thor’s best friends,” Bruce gently admonished. He was taking the buddy system idea fairly seriously, and had been shadowing Clint since the tour started. “And they mean well.”

“Whatever,” Tony muttered, putting on his sunglasses and striding forward. “I think I’m going to find my buddy and see if he wants to help me find the Red Dragon Inn.”

“I don’t want a drink but… you want to head back?” Bruce asked. “Thor has an ivory _hnefatafl_ set, and I’d like to give it a try.”

Clint laughed. “Will you smack me if I said gescundheit?”

“I’d think about it,” Bruce said mildly.

“Eh, we could give it a whirl. But if you’re having a good time…”

“God, no,” Bruce said. “This is pretty hellish for me. But it’s better to stop Tony before he whines too much and offends all the nice aliens.”

Clint grinned. “And that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Bruce ducked his head and smiled. “I’ll let Thor know where we're going.”

-

Clint suggested they use the room he was sharing with Phil for a game of whatever the heck. Then he headed in that direction to change while Bruce went to fetch the game. Asgardian summers apparently were really warm, and wearing so many layers was just a bad decision.

He had just finished unbolting, untying, and unfastening his cloak and outer tunic when he heard the door open. Clint figured it was Bruce but there was a green scaly hide from some lizard monster separating both sections of the chamber so he wasn’t sure.

“You’re that excited about this hufflepuff game?”

He peered out and froze, fingers tightening around some of the larger scales in front of him.

_Loki._

Who looked about the same as ever outside of a few rings under his bright eyes. And his lips were bleeding from where the stitches had been yanked out.

“I have never cared for _hnefatafl_ ,” Loki said. “It hardly matters. That isn’t the game we’re going to play.” He held out his right hand, and made a coaxing gesture with his slender fingers. “Come here.”

Clint swallowed hard, doing a mental inventory of what he had on him. It was a short check. Just two knives. One of them pretty normal, the other a bit more tricked out by someone down in R&D. His bow and arrows were somewhere behind Loki. For the moment anyway.

“Come here,” Loki repeated, eyes glinting with amusement. “If I meant to kill you, I would have done so already.”

Clint moved forward reluctantly. “Bruce?”

“He’s perfectly fine. Very relaxed, in fact.”

“Dead?”

Loki shook his head. With a smirk, he snatched up Clint’s wrist. “Yours is a truly limited imagination, Barton. I suggested he stay calm. So he will.”

“How’d you get out?”

“I have friends too, you know. Less than Thor perhaps. Less than you. But then you certainly are popular.”

“Not really,” Clint insisted. “Most people don’t like me once they get to know me.”

“I think I may become fonder of you now that I will no longer be subject to your tedious little secrets.”

“I doubt we’ll be spending much time together.”

Loki chuckled. “In that case, do hurry up and tell me all about your handsome Agent Coulson.”

“None of your damn business.”

Loki laughed again. “Ah, but it is. I do so love bringing people together.”

“That wasn’t y—”

Loki placed a cold hand over Clint’s mouth. “Hush. You wanted my affection desperately when you were mine. I’m not surprised that you’ve sought out a more reliable source since then. Nor have I revised my opinion of you. You’re still perfectly usable.”

The hand moved away and Clint looked down. “Yeah? For what?”

“A hostage, I think.” Loki offered up a sly smile of false sympathy. “Would it soothe your battered pride if I hurt you first?”

“No.”

Loki tore at the collar of Clint’s shirt. Before Clint figured out what he was going to do or an adequate means of blocking the attack, the god was biting in his bare shoulder. And it was so cold. He couldn’t see the wound Loki’s teeth left, but Clint had a feeling it was tinged with blue, like some kind of alien frostbite. He tugged a knife slowly out from the back of his belt, debating when to put it to use.

“Lovely,” the god murmured. “I am sure some interesting conclusions will be made. After all, yours is not the strongest of hearts.”

“Fuck you.”

Loki smirked, showing his teeth. “You are always so very succinct.”

Clint stabbed at the god’s arm, setting off the timer in the knife’s hilt.

Loki tore it out and flung it away, letting the detonator take out an oak table and chair. Then Loki picked Clint up by his throat, pinning him to a wall. His fingers weren’t cold this time, but his fingernails cut into Clint’s skin leaving bruises and half-moon indentations behind. “I like obedience but this is very interesting. You Avengers are very interesting.”

“Jealous?” Clint asked, startling when Loki’s grip slackened. He slid along the wall and nearly hit the floor until Loki caught him, hands digging into the fabric over the human’s heart.

“It’s nothing personal, Barton. I might even give you back to them if they beg,” Loki said. “I just need leverage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, I don't have anything against the Warriors Three. I'm just fairly certain they would drive most of the Avengers nuts and I don't think there's any real doubt that Loki isn't their biggest fan. 
> 
> Lock, Shock and Barrel is a reference to A Nightmare Before Christmas.
> 
> Faramir is not an elf but he is an archer and in The Lord of the Rings. I sort of figure Tony will get around to calling Clint the name of every fictional archer he can think of. Except maybe Katniss. But then again it's Tony.
> 
> For more info on hnefatafl, [go here](http://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/daily_living/text/games_and_sports.htm).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is Loki. Phil is a BAMF. Hulk does what Hulk does best. And Clint ends up happier than he expected to be.

“Admit it,” Loki murmured once they finally stood near the gates that ultimately lead to Bifrost. “You missed me.”

Clint grunted. He was gagged which made it hard to reply even if he wanted to. The manacles securing Clint’s wrists were the ones Loki had been wearing himself just hours earlier. Waste not, want not. Apparently. They’d been wrapped around Loki’s belt. At least the muzzle seemed to have been lost.

Loki ran his fingers through Clint’s hair before chucking the human under his chin. “You might also be wondering oh where oh where is Thor? Or anyone else who couldn’t be bothered to say anything at the feast last evening. Well. I imagine my associate is keeping them busy. She has a thing for hulking blonds so even if she’s caught, she won’t be unhappy.

“We’ll give her another handful of minutes.”

Clint shrugged as best he could, feeling all kinds of worn down. He was beginning to come to the conclusion that he was out of his depth. He worried that, left to his own devices, he was going to be stuck with Loki forever. Or he was going to wind up dead very soon, which was preferable… but not really a great option. Clint’s best bet was Bruce, and that actually made him feel better. At least Bruce would probably track down the others.

Loki patted his shoulder, drawing him closer as if they were old friends.

“How shall we pass the time,” Loki cheerfully mused. “I know, how about I give you what you wanted the entire time we were working together?”

Clint shook his head, flinching a little as Loki undid his gag.

“No point in being shy now, darling. You certainly weren’t before.”

Loki leaned down, nudging Clint’s chin up and kissing him roughly. Clint’s lips felt like twin icicles when Loki finally drew back.

If he’d cared at all, he would have been curious about how Loki’s magic worked. How the chill came and went. And why Loki felt motivated to use it. But he didn’t care.

He tugged a bit on the manacles, unsure whether or not he ought to bite Loki when the god leaned in again. Instead Clint rode out the second kiss, thinking of other things. Like arrows and grenades and other pleasant diversions.

“I have a gift for leaving everyone cold,” Loki purred, brushing a finger over Clint’s chapped lips. “Shall I show you what happens if I’m not careful? I get a bit restless when I don’t have a very receptive audience.”

A golden spearhead smacked Loki’s cheek, and the god hissed. As he touched his cheek, the weapon ran him through, possibly causing a lot of damage, possibly not causing much at all. But it seemed likely to pin in him in place.

Clint eyed the weapon curiously before glancing around Loki. _Oh_. He managed a strained but relieved smile. “Yay for our side. What took you so long?”

“I had to find something significant enough to use,” Phil said, sounding more than a little irritated. Underneath it was a trace amount of concern that would have to keep until there was time for it. “I wanted to enjoy this.”

“That is Gugnir,” Loki said, struggling like a very arrogant or at least a very pinned beetle. “Made of uru. Wielded only by Odin or his chosen warriors. That does not and cannot include you.”

Phil crossed his arms, looking a little smug. “You should have done your homework.”

“Free me at once.”

“Not just yet. But if you keep still, I think about it.”

Loki smirked, blood oozing down his jaw as he shook his head.

Phil considered this. He tugged the spear out with one swift tug and rammed it back in, just an inch or two off from where it been just seconds ago. “How about now? Because I can keep on doing this. I really, really don’t mind.”

“No, and you will stop,” Loki rasped. “I still have a prize you covet,” he added, grabbing at Clint’s neck without so much as looking at him.  “If you move any closer, mortal, I’ll rid you of your reason for challenging me in the first place.”

Someone else cleared their throat, and they all turned to look at Bruce. “No offense,” he said, passing his glasses off to Phil, “but do you ever shut up?”

Loki laughed, fingernails scratching hard enough at the back of Clint’s neck to draw blood. “Must you travel in herds? How tiresome, and yet. What can you possibly do, Dr. Banner?”

Bruce stretched a bit as he wandered closer. “You told me to be calm. So I was. But you didn’t talk to him. And the thing about him is that he never listens to me.”

“Ah,” Loki said, looking a bit nervous. “Then perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

Bruce gently plucked Loki’s hand off of Clint’s neck as he continued. “That’s the bad news. We can’t.”

“And the good news?” Loki asked.

Bruce smiled ruefully. “The good news is I finally agree with the Hulk about something so thank you for that. Hopefully he’ll take it easy on you, but. Well. You know how it is.”

The green began to spread from his left to his right quickly. Bruce snapped Clint’s manacles between a few fingers before raising a fist so that the Hulk punched Loki.

Loki went reeling backwards while the spear clattered to the floor beneath. The Hulk lumbered after him. There was a pause and then the Hulk slammed a foot down onto Loki’s back. Then when Loki managed to right himself, the Hulk offered up another punch. And so the cycle continued.

Clint stared at the spectacle, and then sighed in satisfaction. “Damn, but that is therapeutic.”

“Just a bit,” Phil said wryly and then he seemed to shake off whatever bits of Agent Coulson was keeping him from closing the gap between them. He pulled Clint into his arms and kissed him gently. “This witch showed up and put some stupid love spell on Thor.”

“How stupid?”

“It’s fine. I don’t think Tony and Steve are going to speak to him for a week or more but it’s fine. Once I found Bruce, I knew Loki was wherever you were.”

“Sorry. But you found me. That’s good,” Clint murmured. 

“There are some things that I’m never going to want to let you face alone,” Phil said.

“I’m glad,” Clint said quietly. “And I’m glad you’re here.”

As Hulk continued to bash Loki into various things, Phil inspected the wounds and bruises Clint had.

Clint didn’t want to flinch away. He didn’t want Phil to get the wrong impression. So instead he coaxed Phil into raising his arms and then Clint slid Phil's suit jacket off him. “Are you cold? I’m sort of cold. I need this.”

“No serious injuries,” Phil murmured. He helped Clint put the jacket on and studied him carefully. “Right?”

Clint shook his head. “I’m just cold. Loki bit me and… Phil, please don’t think that—”

Phil kissed him again, and Clint returned it eagerly. “The only thing I’m thinking right now is that I really care about you.”

“And that Loki’s a fucking prick?”

“That too.”

Clint moved back into Phil’s arms, resting his head on one shoulder. “Nice work with the spear,” he said. “You didn’t know what that thing was when you picked it up, did you?”

Phil held him tightly. “No. It looked important and it was pointy. That was good enough for me.”

“That’s the great thing about you. You’re always improvising.”

-

And that pretty much settled that. None of them were sad to leave Asgard outside of Bruce who still seemed to think the whole trip had been a huge success. But he usually ended up punch-drunk on adrenaline for hours on end after being the Hulk. So no one took him too seriously.

Clint was the first one across the bridge followed by Natasha and Steve. Their lingering sense of dread remained but it lost out to their need to get the heck out of Dodge.

Tony seemed about to burst the whole way across Bifrost.

“Just say whatever it is,” Phil said once they were safely back on Earth. “Go on. You’re clearly dying to.”

“On second thought, let’s not go to Asgard. Tis a silly place.”

It was such a stupid thing to say that most of them laughed.

Thor crossed his arms, looking a little indignant, which just made Clint laugh even harder.

Steve sighed and pulled out a notebook in order to add it to the list of things he still didn’t get.

The de-briefing was mercifully short. Fury didn’t seem to have much to say since they hadn’t fucked up badly. If anything, they’d done a pretty good job of making a few aliens like them and another stellar job keeping a hostile one out of commission.

Clint was all for going back to bed for a week, but Phil was very Dudley Do-Right when it came to mission summaries and sitreps.

He paced around instead. Every now and then he’d stop to give Phil puppy eyes that didn’t seem to convince him to do anything except to keep typing. “Everything in there?”

Phil nodded. “Except the bite you got since it really has no bearing on the way things played out.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yes.”

“If I’m compromised…”

“From a love-bite and a cold kiss? He may be magical psychopath but he’s not that special.” 

Clint smiled faintly before shrugging. “If you’re just keeping it out because of me… You don’t have to. You should keep it in.”

Phil smiled. “The last thing this team needs is any conflict with SHIELD or concerns about whether or not you’ve recovered completely.”

“Still…”

Also,” Phil continued with a pointed look. “Banner already gave me his analysis. You’re completely Loki-free.”

“Oh. Good.” He didn’t want feelings to get in the way of Phil doing a thorough job.

Phil nodded and went back to work.

Clint sat on the arm of the couch that was closest to where the agent was busy typing. He yawned and hummed under his breath, tapping one hand against his thigh as he waited.

“Am I boring you?” Phil asked.

“Yes.”

Phil rolled his eyes, shoving the laptop back along the table. “Come here then,” he said, and tugged Clint into his lap. “Don’t you have anything else to do?”

Clint grinned. “Nope. Well. I was going to go back to bed for a week.”

“And?”

“And those feelings you foisted on me make it hard to want to do anything without you.”

“Hold that thought.” Phil reached over Clint, pinning the archer against him as he typed for a bit longer. Clint closed his eyes, listening to the keyboard and feeling a bit like a sap for thinking even a moment like this was pretty nice.

When he opened his eyes again, he watched Phil do a quick job of proofreading before sending the file off.

“There. Now. Back to what you were saying.”

Clint grinned, scooting off Phil’s lap and onto the seat cushion next to him. “I didn’t have much to add. Just. You know, I have a thing for you.”

“It is beneficial in some way?” Phil asked with a smirk.

“Well, it makes everything else a bit easier.” Clint paused. “You have one for me, right?”

“Are you asking if I love you?

“Maybe more if it’s probable. I don’t know. I always feel like you’re supposed to save that word up until a lot of time has passed.”

“That seems a bit foolish given our line of work,” Phil mused. “Not to mention how long we’ve known each other. Which is why I couldn’t possibly say that you make things easier… but you certainly make things better. So yes. I more than probably love you.”

“That’s cool. And I definitely love you too,” Clint said.

They didn’t leave the couch for a while after that what with lots of kissing and Phil occasionally remembering he ought to send something else out before shirking his responsibilities altogether. And even though they didn't get to stay in bed for the rest of the week, they managed not to leave it very often over the course of several days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I am still super-addicted to this pairing so I'll be posting more fic in the very near future.


End file.
